


None Free From Sin

by OIvOry



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bukkake, Dismemberment, Gore, Multi, NSFW, Original Character Death(s), Predator/Prey, Size Difference, Threesome - F/M/M, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:53:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8404174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OIvOry/pseuds/OIvOry
Summary: It has always been in my nature, and you yours, for us to do this dance.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ;)

_She'd known her fate the moment she let an autumn breeze catch her. As wanton and reckless as her nature was, as ever. The promising green season closed into a bright splatter of red and the muted undertones of brown littering the City with decay, and she knew she would join the carelessly swept aside bodies in a slow, moist rot._

_But she would not go quietly. She would not prostrate herself to a simple, innocent death. Even when she still ripening on the branch, tender pale leaves blossoming into womanhood, the quiet scolding of her religious leaders could not keep her from the path of sin._

_To feel the first and final touch of a man was the most macabre and beautiful form of self destruction. It was unheard of, and it was her destiny._

 

You'd known your entire life that you were a monster. A quiet, starving beast who's assault was not rancorous nor brief and hot; rather a slow sinking into an icy bath that held you to the bottom, drowned you so slow and sweet.

Innocence was as delectable on the palate as your afternoon tea and sweets. You watched them dance out of reach, they were somewhere between the edge and safety of society. Bright, beautiful, in many forms and yet all calling like sirens. From the bloodiest red to the deepest maroon, plucked pumpkin oranges between these two.

Innocent they were, caught in a flurry of eternal movement after a lifetime of being held to their mother's solid, barked breast. Naive to the carnal delights of man, of you. They were warned to avoid the one who smelled of sweet clover, with red eyes that reminded them of the color of their own. 

And rightly they were warned, for you could imagine great and terrible things. Vile, slow, agonizing ways to break them down to pieces. The mere idea of your own creativity, the possibilities, created flush and swell. But you were not without self control, and you quelled the thickening with a slow, careful bite of a chocolate eclair. So talented your mouth was that not a single ounce of chocolate stained your perfect lips.

You bundled your napkin and kept it trapped beneath the cup's saucer as you placed the edge of the cup against your lips, sipping.

That's when she came to you. Caught on a breeze that lifted her in an arch, spinning, drifting until she came to rest on your empty saucer. Truly the entire thing was more grace than you'd witnessed in centuries. The execution's young, inexperienced tremble through the air current was endearing paired with a natural gift for an elegant poise. The landing was impeccable. 

A long moment of your cold, calculating stare perhaps waned her confidence in the barest, but behind the veneer you were caught off guard by her beauty. Her falling was fresh yet, an easy observation judging by the fresh, dewy quality of her smooth skin. So lewd that her kind were allowed to remain unclothed, giving you view of every delicate vein branching from the thick, voluptuous main stem that ran a perfect seam up the middle of her body. Her vibrant, green center bloomed outwards into flushed, maroonish red. A color that could only be created by nature. Utterly devastating. 

She shook gently as the breeze stirred again, pushed millimeter by millimeter towards the edge of the saucer. Every inch of her was pleading and silent for you not to allow her to be carried off again, for this chance would not come a second time. Silent, however, and patient. Awaiting judgement.

Just when it seemed you would allow her to be lifted and cast away, a single finger gently but firmly pinned her to the porcelain surface beneath her. Trapped beneath a smooth, dark pad and polished nail. Perhaps it was intentional that you pinned her just above the vulnerable pit above her stem. So close, yet not touching. Close enough to be thrilling for both parties. 

Like any predator you quelled her thoughts with your stare, drew her in deep as you leaned forward until you loomed above her. The shadow you cast was ominous. Your teeth glittered when you spoke. Your voice ran against the senses like warmed honey and chocolate.

"любовник." Lover, you called her. You spoke the tongue with unmatched skill. "Do you know what happens to young, trembling things like you, when they come to men like me?" You swear you can feel her main vein gently throb beneath your index finger. Your middle and third curled downwards, tracing a feather light path against her perfectly serated edges, following dips and peaks. 

She already belonged to you, in these beginning moments. It took only your barest darkness to make her all the more willing. Yes, her body spoke to you. Yes, I am yours, and I am set for disaster, and I give my undoing to you. 

A gift with more meaning than any other. And you would not waste it.


End file.
